Holding on, letting go
by MelissaSz89
Summary: Set directly after 3x14 "Damaged". When Spencer gets home after his and Hotch's interview with Hardwick, he can't stop thinking about what has happened. He realises that his boss needs something, or someone to be precise, to be able to unwind and get some control back in his life, and Spencer has just the right idea to achieve that. Discussions of D/s, pre-slash, hurt/comfort.


"_Incredible change happens in your life when you decide to take control of what you do have power over instead of craving control over what you don't." - __Steve Maraboli_

* * *

Spencer was standing at the door to Hotch's house, trying to suppress the nervousness he felt.

He felt like he had spent the whole day on edge. Not surprising, considering what had happened earlier when he and Hotch had interviewed Chester Hardwick in prison. The situation had spiralled so completely out of control for a moment, that Spencer was still somewhat shocked that he had managed to defuse the seemingly inevitable explosion of violence in that small room.

_I find that I do some of my best work under intense terror._

That's what he told Hotch, when his boss tried to apologise for antagonising Hardwick. Thankfully, it did seem to be true. Adrenaline could be a very helpful friend in such situations, he thought wryly.

He felt glad that he had prevented a fight between Hotch and the convict, because even though he was sure that Hotch could have beaten the other man just like he was predicting it beforehand, Spencer hadn't wanted to take the risk of him being hurt. Hardwick was a psychopath and who knew what tricks he had planed to use, seeing as he had set the entire scene up only to have the chance to relive his crimes before he got executed.

Even after Hotch had dropped him off at his apartment with another apology and a quiet good-night, the events of the day wouldn't let him rest. He had taken a shower, while he had waited for the pizza he had ordered right after he had arrived home. They two of them hadn't eaten since breakfast and the burning hunger in his belly became quite noticeable by then.

When he had taken the first bite however, the worry he had felt for Hotch earlier that day returned full force and he tried to imagine what his boss was currently doing after coming home to an empty house. Had he eaten? He had to be feeling just as ravenous as Spencer himself. Was he still blaming himself for letting the situation get out of control earlier? No doubt. Would he be able to sleep tonight, after having missed the only presented opportunity to let out some of the anger and helplessness he must be feeling since his wife filed for divorce? Probably not.

Spencer thought back to Hotch's confession about Haley's request for an uncomplicated procedure. It had honestly stunned him that Hotch was confiding to him of all people about his private life. But then, who could he really go to? Rossi was a good, old friend of his, but ever since he had returned to the BAU there were obvious tensions between them, caused by Rossi's different take on the job and his slow integration into the team. It was getting better and they worked together more effortlessly on the last few cases than the first ones, but Hotch was exceptionally protective of his team and as long as Rossi hadn't proven completely that he accepted to be part of it, Hotch wouldn't trust him enough to be so open with him.

The other members of their team trusted Hotch with their lives, and Spencer knew that the sentiment was returned in full, but Hotch had always been careful about keeping his job and his private life separate, and thus he likely wouldn't have known how to let them share his burdens with him.

Of course, that should have also applied to Spencer. But there had been something in Hotch's voice when he made his confession, something other than the simple try to offer some kind of explanation for what had happened in the interrogation room. It had sounded suspiciously like relief, and a close look at Hotch had told him what he had suspected all along.

Hotch was lost. He was at the end of his strength. Not in a physical sense, or even psychologically. But emotionally. The masks he used to have in place effortlessly while on the job, began slipping. And he didn't know how to handle it. For once, in that single moment, he had allowed himself to reach out to someone for help. But could Spencer really provide him with the help he so desperately needed?

The solution snuck up on Spencer, when his eyes fell on his handcuffs, which he had deposited along with his gun on the table in front of him.

If Hotch was loosing control, what better way to help him, but to give some of it back to him?

In a different form than he was surely used to, but still...

It could work.

And that was how he found himself waiting for the door to open, after having calmed his nerves long enough to actually knock against it.

When it finally did, Hotch was standing there, still in his pants and dress shirt, looking at him worriedly. "Reid, what are you doing here?" he asked immediately.

Spencer tried hard not to fidget or blink while he replied, "Can I talk to you?"

Hotch frowned at him and answered tersely, "It's almost midnight. Did something happen?"

"No, no, nothing happened," Spencer hurried to sooth him. "I just, I really need to talk to you."

Hotch looked doubtful about his reassurance, but opened the door wider to let him in. Smiling slightly in thanks, Spencer stepped over the threshold and couldn't help but take a scrutinising look around. The interior looked comfortable and also practical, a perfect blend of the two people who had spent the last eight years or so living here together. It should convey a pleasant atmosphere, but all Spencer could feel was the unnerving emptiness from the rooms around him, which had at one point contained laughter and happiness.

He couldn't even begin to imagine how it must feel to Hotch every day to come home to this.

Once Hotch had closed the door behind him, Spencer turned back to face him. However, the other man walked past him inside the living room, where he sat down on the comfy looking sofa and motioned him to do the same in the matching armchair across from him. Spencer realised that Hotch must have picked up on his nervousness, or else he would have remained standing until he knew exactly what was going on instead of trying to make him feel more comfortable.

He was grateful for the consideration, but he couldn't sit down just yet. He was too wired, too anxious about how the following conversation would end. So of course he decided to dive right in. "I couldn't stop thinking about what happened today," he began, trying not to sound accusing.

Hotch stiffened at the words and started to speak, "Reid, I..."

"No, wait. Please hear me out," Spencer interrupted him instantly. He wasn't here to listen to unneeded apologies and to make Hotch feel even more guilty about everything than he already did.

For a second it looked like Hotch was going to say something anyway, but then he nodded in acceptance. He looked tired and wary, and Spencer couldn't take another moment of seeing him like this. "I'm not here to make you feel bad about it, Hotch. But I did realise some things while we were at the prison, and afterwards when you told me about the divorce."

Hotch rubbed a hand over his eyes at that and discreetly glanced at the empty space next to him on the sofa. Spencer wondered if that had been Haley's usual place when they spent an evening together at home. He also wondered how many times during the last few months since Haley had left, Hotch had sat there and missed her. Missed his son.

"Why are you here, Reid?"

The question brought him back to the present and he couldn't wait any longer to broach the subject. If he didn't do it soon, he might loose his nerve. "How much do you know about the lifestyle of dominants and submissive?" he asked and was grateful to hear that his voice sounded strong and confident.

Hotch looked up at him, surprise and confusion evident on his face due to the unexpected question. Spencer didn't rush him, didn't demand an answer, but instead tried to remain patient and serious, even while his heart started to beat faster from trepidation. He was still doing this for Hotch's sake, but he couldn't ignore the longing rising inside him either.

He had always been careful not to show how much he had truly started to care for his superior during the last two years. Hotch was always very professional about his job, not to mention married and a father of a young child. But even though he constantly told himself that nothing would ever come of the feelings he held for Hotch, he couldn't just stop them from growing every day he spent with the other man. The prospect of having the chance to get anything close to what he fantasised about was both daunting and exciting.

"I know a few things about it," Hotch finally answered, carefully weighing his words. "It's impossible not to, considering our jobs, don't you think?"

"Yes," Spencer nodded in agreement. "But I don't just mean the psychological side of it. What do you know about the practices, the customs, safewords?"

Now Hotch was openly frowning at him, but he answered nonetheless, "Probably still a lot. We had a case once, before you joined the unit. Young women were being murdered in New York. They all showed multiple signs of torture and sexual abuse. The UnSub was a dominant, or at least he pretended to be one, who met his victims in an underground SM club. I learned a few things about the lifestyle back then."

Spencer nodded thoughtfully. It was good that Hotch seemed to know at least the basics of this type of relationship, though he knew that each couple who engaged in this lifestyle had their own special characteristics. He was pretty sure he knew what Hotch needed, even though the man himself didn't seem to realise it, but he was still unsure of how exactly to phrase his offer.

While he kept thinking about the best way to do it, Hotch seemed to loose his patience and demanded warily, "Why are you asking about this? What is truly going on here, Reid?"

Spencer swallowed against the dryness in his throat and licked his lips, noticing how Hotch's eyes were drawn to his mouth at the display. Desire coiled inside him, but Spencer pushed it aside firmly. Even if Hotch decided to agree to his proposition, he knew that his boss wouldn't do it for the same reasons as Spencer would. Because even though his main goal was to help Hotch, there was a selfish part inside him that wanted nothing more than to lie in this man's arms and feel loved and safe.

He shook his head to get those thoughts out of his mind, and then he answered cautiously, "I have an offer to make."

"An offer?" Hotch repeated, incredulously.

"Yes, a very special offer," Spencer replied and sat down on the previously offered armchair across from him. It wouldn't be good to stand and look down on Hotch, while he offered himself up as a submissive. He wanted their conversation to be on the same eye-level.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, silently prompting him to continue.

"You were out of control today," Spencer said, matter-of-factly. There was no judgement in his voice whatsoever, but he could clearly see the defensive posture slipping back in Hotch's body. He hurried to add, "I'm not blaming you, Hotch. Everything worked out alright. And I understand why you did what you did."

Hotch remained silent for a few seconds, while he crossed his arms in front of his chest. He levelled Spencer with an unreadable look and asked again, "_Why are you here?_"

His voice sounded tense and just this side of angry and Spencer knew in that moment that he was making the right call. There was so much responsibility weighing on his boss' shoulders and he always needed to keep himself together, to never allow himself any weaknesses. Even now while Strauss was still out for his head and his marriage was falling apart, he suffered silently and never allowed anyone to see how close he was to breaking under the weight of it all.

At least until today.

Today Spencer had seen past all those masks and what he had seen was a man in dire need of help und support.

And control.

Spencer could give him all of those things. He _wanted_ to give Hotch everything he needed and more.

"I'm here because I want to help you. I want to give you something you desperately need," he answered finally and was surprised at the steadiness in his own voice.

"And what would that be?" Hotch asked, obviously affronted at being called desperate, but there was something in his eyes, something that seemed to want to know urgently how Spencer could help him, how he could ease those burdens he carried.

"You need an outlet. Something, _someone_, who is there for you when you need to let yourself go and vent all those frustrations and anger you are carrying around with you," Spencer said, watching closely for a reaction. "You need to be back in control. Everything is falling apart around you, in the office and also in your private life, and you don't know how to deal with that loss. I can give you something you _can_ control. And in addition the freedom of being yourself while you do it. You won't have to hide anything, you won't have to hold anything of yourself back. That's my offer."

There was silence after Spencer had finished. It stretched for long moments, in which Hotch remained completely still and Spencer tried to calm his racing heart and racing thoughts.

When Hotch moved at last, he breathed deeply once, and leaned forward to peer into Spencer's eyes closely. Spencer couldn't look away, not even if he wanted to. There was something in Hotch's eyes when he looked at you like this, that made it impossible to turn away. Not that Spencer would ever want to.

Whatever Hotch was searching for in his expression, he must have found it, because he seemed to relax just a little bit. He uncrossed his arms, leaned forward even more and rested his elbows on his knees, while he folded his hands together. "I think you need to be more specific in your offer," he stated, his voice betraying nothing about what he thought of the direction their conversation was going.

But Spencer could feel hope spreading inside him. Hotch hadn't dismissed him, but had rather asked for an explanation and seemed to be genuinely interested in the answer. Spencer hurried to elaborate, this time not holding back on his true intentions.

"I want to be your submissive," he stated firmly.

No reaction yet.

"I want to please you and help you be yourself again."

Hotch's right eye twitched, as if he wanted to blink, but _of course_ he wouldn't allow himself to. Not right now.

"I want to be there for you, when you get frustrated with Strauss' endless attempts to get rid of you and incriminate the team."

His folded hands clenched tightly for a second.

"I want to be there for you, when we work on a case and the horrors of what we have to witness are getting just this side of too much to bare."

The steeliness in Hotch's gaze softened at that admission.

"I want to be there for you, when you're feeling angry and powerless, because your wife left you because of who you are. Because of something you cannot change about yourself. Something _I_ wouldn't ever _want_ you to change."

Hotch took another deep breath at that, obviously trying to keep control of his emotions. Spencer pressed on.

"I want to be there for you, when you're struggling with the guilt about not being with your son and the pain of not being able to see him whenever you want to."

At that, the mask finally broke. Just a little bit.

"Spencer..." Hotch whispered hoarsely and the sound of his given name on those lips made Spencer want to kiss him right then. But he knew with infinite clarity that any wrong move now could destroy everything they were just starting to share.

Instead he tried to convey with his eyes how much he truly cared, how much he wanted to help, and how honest his intentions were. "Please, Aaron," he said, trying out the name and liking the way Hotch's eyes widened slightly at hearing it from him. "Let me be the one thing in your life that's constant. I can help you regain the control you need so much, even if it's not exactly how you imagined it. The only question is, will you let me?"

Spencer could see the struggle Hotch was having with himself. He didn't get fidgety or restless, like Spencer himself would in a reverse position. His body betrayed none the inner turmoil he was going through, but Spencer knew him well enough to read it in his eyes.

But at long last, Hotch uttered one single word.

"Yes."

* * *

"_Last night I lost the world, and gained the universe." - C. JoyBell C.  
_

* * *

A/N: After having read an initially surprising amount of dom!Reid and sub!Hotch during the last few days, I desperately craved some dom!Hotch. I woke up today and had to write this. There are so many plotbunnies in my head for a continuation, but I can't promise anything. Real life is a bitch sometimes.

I still hope you enjoyed it :)


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